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cap_ironman2012-02-06 01:52 pm
metaallu.livejournal.com) wrote in cap_ironman2012-02-06 01:52 pm
Entry tags:
Steve/Tony: Wherein Steve Wears Panties NC-17 [415 words]
Title: Wherein Steve Wears Panties
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
metaallu
Rating: NC-17
Universe: Movie
Warnings: None.
Personal Disclaimer: The author of this fan fiction is unstable. Comments have been disabled to assure continued enjoyment for both author and readers.
Summary: Written because panties. Also Bottom!Steve, which I mention only because it's not my usual bag.
"Jesus Christ," Tony says intelligently as Steve sinks down onto him, head tossed back and cheeks flushed right down to his shoulders. Steve had told him, red-faced and determined six months ago that he would fulfill any fantasy Tony had on their wedding night. That had been as close to a proposal as he'd ever gotten. Tony had hemmed and hawwed, and eventually he'd said Fuck it, there's always divorce, which earned him a frowned, but then a smile, a kiss, and a promise he'd never even have to think about it.
So they got engaged. Tony came out to the press, and Steve stood by his side red-faced and holding his hand, the cool metal of his engagement ring warming against Tony's fingers. They have a stupidly small ceremony in city hall, a civil union with papers and some friends; with cheap champagne and rings around their fingers because Steve asked if Tony wanted to one morning at breakfast.
And now Steve is wearing lacey red panties and is straddling him and shifting his hips, hot and tight and breathless and god Tony really just wants to fuck his brains out. An embarrassed fidgeting Steve is nothing new, but he's always composed and proper; having Steve here like this, flushed and wanting, hard and leaking in the underwear that have been tugged down in the back but left on... Tony wants to wreck him. He wants to muss his hair, make him sweat and gasp and whimpers. He wants to make him beg and keen.
Tony bucks his hips and Steve gasps. His eyes pop open, foggy and disoriented and he looks down at Tony, lips red and kiss-bitten, slick with spit and parted so he can gasp for breath.
"Tony," he says, and Tony bucks his hips again. Steve gasps and holds Tony's legs for additional support, thighs trembling as he rocks himself. "Oh, Tony... oh, fuck."
Heat surges from Tony's ears straight to his dick. He knows that Steve knows swear words, and he's used them more than once in his life — he was in the army, after all — but Steve is, quote "not in the army anymore," as well as quite modest and proper. It takes a solid blow to the gut or an amazing blowjob to get him to swear; or, apparently, a good, hard thrust to the prostate.
"Tony," Steve whimpers and Tony sides his hands to Steve's hips. He can't wait to make a mess of those panties.
Author:
metaalluRating: NC-17
Universe: Movie
Warnings: None.
Personal Disclaimer: The author of this fan fiction is unstable. Comments have been disabled to assure continued enjoyment for both author and readers.
Summary: Written because panties. Also Bottom!Steve, which I mention only because it's not my usual bag.
"Jesus Christ," Tony says intelligently as Steve sinks down onto him, head tossed back and cheeks flushed right down to his shoulders. Steve had told him, red-faced and determined six months ago that he would fulfill any fantasy Tony had on their wedding night. That had been as close to a proposal as he'd ever gotten. Tony had hemmed and hawwed, and eventually he'd said Fuck it, there's always divorce, which earned him a frowned, but then a smile, a kiss, and a promise he'd never even have to think about it.
So they got engaged. Tony came out to the press, and Steve stood by his side red-faced and holding his hand, the cool metal of his engagement ring warming against Tony's fingers. They have a stupidly small ceremony in city hall, a civil union with papers and some friends; with cheap champagne and rings around their fingers because Steve asked if Tony wanted to one morning at breakfast.
And now Steve is wearing lacey red panties and is straddling him and shifting his hips, hot and tight and breathless and god Tony really just wants to fuck his brains out. An embarrassed fidgeting Steve is nothing new, but he's always composed and proper; having Steve here like this, flushed and wanting, hard and leaking in the underwear that have been tugged down in the back but left on... Tony wants to wreck him. He wants to muss his hair, make him sweat and gasp and whimpers. He wants to make him beg and keen.
Tony bucks his hips and Steve gasps. His eyes pop open, foggy and disoriented and he looks down at Tony, lips red and kiss-bitten, slick with spit and parted so he can gasp for breath.
"Tony," he says, and Tony bucks his hips again. Steve gasps and holds Tony's legs for additional support, thighs trembling as he rocks himself. "Oh, Tony... oh, fuck."
Heat surges from Tony's ears straight to his dick. He knows that Steve knows swear words, and he's used them more than once in his life — he was in the army, after all — but Steve is, quote "not in the army anymore," as well as quite modest and proper. It takes a solid blow to the gut or an amazing blowjob to get him to swear; or, apparently, a good, hard thrust to the prostate.
"Tony," Steve whimpers and Tony sides his hands to Steve's hips. He can't wait to make a mess of those panties.